Pirates of the Caribbean: Freedom and Fate
by MartyCessna
Summary: Continues after DMC.Based on rumors of 3,but with twists and creative license.The characters are discovering new things about themselves and each other,not all good,not all bad.Review please! Or I'll think you all hate it!
1. Prologue

A/N: Yet another story that came to me as a dream. It's pretty much writing itself. But I won't post any updates until I get reviews to my satisfaction, savvy? I think that it deserves at least some acknowledgement that people are actually reading it. And I think it's pretty good, actually. So if anyone wants to find out what happens next (which is way more interesting than this intro), you've got to leave me a review. A personal message would be nice, but that might be asking too much. FLAMES WILL BE RETURNED! An eye for an eye, folks. You criticize me harshly, I'll criticize you harshly. Got it? Okay. And you all know that I don't own any of these characters that you'd recognize from the films...just any new ones I might happen to put in here once in a while along the way. Disney owns the characters from the movies. If I did, then I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfics, would I? I'd be hanging out in the Caribbean! So get on it mates and read this already! Here we go...

Pirates of the Caribbean: Freedom and Fate

The sun set on the horizon, seeming to sink into the faraway waves of the Caribbean Sea, and sweeping its blanket of pink and purple down with it. The fading light of early evening cast shadows on a small island, an isolated paradise for someone who did not wish to be found. Several huts stood within the dense forest on the island, and one carefully constructed and luxurious treehouse stood near a diminutive, but deep, lagoon. Anchored in the lagoon, a small, weather-beaten merchant vessel waited for its captain. It was hidden from passing ships by a large rock outcropping. The outcropping hid the entrance to the lagoon, making it appear as though there was nothing but a cliff wall on that side of the island. Jagged boulders that had fallen from it jutted from the water, discouraging would-be visitors from even attempting to approach even in small rowboats. Only one captain knew the safe way through, and it was on the island that this captain and a renegade crew made their home and headquarters.

Little did the crew suspect that their captain was not the only captain crazy and clever enough to find their haven. One other captain also knew the location of the lagoon, island, and the small ship.

At that moment, the captain who lived on the island was pouring over charts in the treehouse cabin while the crew divided the loot from their last plunder. The captain sighed, tracing their last route and making marks where uncharted dangers lurked.

It wasn't easy being a pirate captain. Especially being a pirate captain that all the other pirates scorned. It was true that the merchant vesselwasn't a large ship, nor was she a new ship, but who would suspect that the virtually powerless ship was a pirate ship? And her hold was plenty big to carry as much plunder as the pirates were able to pillage.

But the ship was the least of the captain's troubles. Trouble was floating only a few miles away…


	2. Indigestion

Trouble was in the form of a dark, shadowy mass whose smell alone struck fear in the hearts of the fearless. The stench from the bulbous animal's bowels beckoned to all manner of scavenger fish and opportunistic predator. While the fish swam close to the creature, confident that they were much too small to bother with, the predators kept their distance. Even the most vicious of sharks feared the tentacled creature that bent its will and unleashed its fury for the legendary and literally heartless old sea man, Davy Jones.

Not even other sea monsters dared to cross the Kraken.

The creature floated, as it often did, as though trying to disguise itself as another of many small islands in the Caribbean. It held its tentacles under the water, occasionally snatching a shark or large crustacean that happened to venture too close. The creature ate these nuisances more as after-dinner mints than actual meals. She (for the Kraken, the only one of her kind, is most assuredly a feminine being, prone to unpredictability, moodiness, and sudden outbursts of aggression) floated broodingly in the water. In her limited brain she was disappointed that out of an entire ship, she'd only managed to eat a few men, one of which was giving her terrible indigestion. The last one hadn't gone down smoothly, carving fire in her mouth before joining the rotting corpses in her stomach. But the last one was the important one. The one that her master had ordered her to hunt. And she felt satisfied to have completed another task for him.

No one knew why she'd chosen to enslave herself to his command. Not even the Kraken herself understood. She knew only that she wanted to be near him, to serve him, to carry out his grizzly whims and orders. She knew only that she'd do anything for the tentacled captain of the _Flying Dutchman. _

The beast seemed to sigh as she scooped a giant crab from the sand at the sea floor with one of her longest tentacles and brought it to her circular, toothy mouth. She waited. She waited for the burning feeling in her stomach to subside. For a larger meal to come and fall prey to her hungry frustration. For the much anticipated vibration from the _Dutchman _to call her on the hunt once more.

But neither the meal nor the vibration came, and the pain in her gut only grew stronger. She felt the pain moving downwards toward her mouth. Then, it moved sideways , somehow blocking the gill-flap she used to breathe underwater! The creature jerked, surprised and suddenly unable to breathe. Her tentacles flailed and thrashed wildly, sending a spray up sixty feet into the air, and sending a large wave across the sea. All of the nearby fish scattered.

Angered and gasping, the Kraken opened her mouth to its widest and thrust a tentacle into it. With all of the movement, the Kraken felt herself turning over until her mouth was pointing skyward out of the water. Had she had the mind for that kind of realization, she might have found her position embarrassing. But she was a simple-minded being and was completely absorbed in the task of freeing her breathing apparatus.

Finally, she began pulling her tentacle out. More and more of the scaly appendage emerged, much like an eel slithering from the place of his evening nap. The Kraken gasped underwater as the obstruction to her gill-flap was cleared. The tentacle swung upward suddenly as it flew from her mouth. On the end of the tentacle was none other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

A primitive form of, "I thought I ate you" flitted through the mind of the Kraken upon recognizing her latest meal. Jack Sparrow was very much alive, and was struggling against her suction grasp. She slapped her tentacle hard into the water, pulling Jack down with it. Deeper, deeper the tentacle went as she attempted to drown him.

But he was slippery when he was wet, and the creature found she was losing her hold on him. She tried to reinforce it with other tentacles, but every time one got close, it felt the sting of his sword. Fatigued from the hunt, lack of food, and disturbed rest, the Kraken fought stubbornly to keep hold of the pirate captain. She snatched at him with one tentacle, managing to snag his hat. But the tentacle was slow to get away, and Jack severed it neatly. Surprized at the pain, the Kraken let go of Jack, who swam free and grabbed his sinking hat. Then he burst to the surface, gasping air.

Angry but exhausted, the Kraken bellowed and darted off, leaving behind a cloud of black ink in her wake.

Jack eyed the still-thrashing but now floating tentacle. Grinning, he grabbed onto it, using its side-winding movement to propel him as his legs acted as the rudder. He steered toward a small speck on the horizon.

Already miles away, the Kraken hid herself in the depths. The tentacle would grow back, and the other wounds would heal, but resentment and a major grudge took hold in the creature's task-oriented mind. Again, she waited.

The opportune moment for revenge would come.


End file.
